I’faith, there has been much in my life to be proud of that I have done. When I was a very young priestess on the Fortunate Isle, I brought down the High Lady after her many years of rule. Some say she ruled by terror and manipulation for a hundred years. It was a determined young girl with a gift for deciet that brought about her undoing. That girl was myself. Instead of basking in that pride, I walked away from it, and rather than take up the mantle and rule there as Morgienne had, I left.
Another moment of pride was when I held the command of my own ship, given to me by my paramour at the time, Captain Douglas Francis O’Riely. The Sorciere was a grand lady, to be sure, captured from the French in a fair fight as she was bringing guns to be used against the British Crown. I had stood by Douglas’ side for three years and for whatever reason not only found myself in command of the vessel captured, but with men of the crewe standing alongside me, believing in my leadership. When I gave the call to strike the sails and make for the open sea, I was proud at that moment, too.
At this moment I am watching my husband, John, discussing with the men at the Hacienda Las Glorias how to best manage the cattle that will be sent out to graze in the morning. All day he has seen to the running of this ranch with a calm and expert hand, carrying himself with a certainty and confidence that would make any onlooker believe that he had been born to it. He has caught me looking at him from the main house and flashed me a smile, and when he is hot, dusty and sweaty from hard work, nothing can adequately describe the aura about him. He has been born to this, reborn in his life here. It shows most distinctly in his love and care for myself and our unborn child, and it is nothing short of miraculous.
At night in the library, when we are both enjoying the cool of the evening hours, he will look up from his reading and look at me – his pleasure and contentment is evident. It is at those moments when I feel the most proud. He has become all that he ever dreamed he could be -and all that he ever needed was someone to believe.
And I do.
Muse: Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Fiction / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 419
Fanny Fae 